Dombey and Son by Charles Dickens

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'I am going out for a constitutional,' resumed Miss Blimber; 'andwhile I am gone, that is to say in the interval between this andbreakfast, Dombey, I wish you to read over what I have marked in thesebooks, and to tell me if you quite understand what you have got tolearn. Don't lose time, Dombey, for you have none to spare, but takethem downstairs, and begin directly.'

'Yes, Ma'am,' answered Paul.

There were so many of them, that although Paul put one hand underthe bottom book and his other hand and his chin on the top book, andhugged them all closely, the middle book slipped out before he reachedthe door, and then they all tumbled down on the floor. Miss Blimbersaid, 'Oh, Dombey, Dombey, this is really very careless!' and piledthem up afresh for him; and this time, by dint of balancing them withgreat nicety, Paul got out of the room, and down a few stairs beforetwo of them escaped again. But he held the rest so tight, that he onlyleft one more on the first floor, and one in the passage; and when hehad got the main body down into the schoolroom, he set off upstairsagain to collect the stragglers. Having at last amassed the wholelibrary, and climbed into his place, he fell to work, encouraged by aremark from Tozer to the effect that he 'was in for it now;' which wasthe only interruption he received till breakfast time. At that meal,for which he had no appetite, everything was quite as solemn andgenteel as at the others; and when it was finished, he followed MissBlimber upstairs.

'Now, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber. 'How have you got on with thosebooks?'

They comprised a little English, and a deal of Latin - names ofthings, declensions of articles and substantives, exercises thereon,and preliminary rules - a trifle of orthography, a glance at ancienthistory, a wink or two at modern ditto, a few tables, two or threeweights and measures, and a little general information. When poor Paulhad spelt out number two, he found he had no idea of number one;fragments whereof afterwards obtruded themselves into number three,which slided into number four, which grafted itself on to number two.So that whether twenty Romuluses made a Remus, or hic haec hoc wastroy weight, or a verb always agreed with an ancient Briton, or threetimes four was Taurus a bull, were open questions with him.

'Oh, Dombey, Dombey!' said Miss Blimber, 'this is very shocking.'

'If you please,' said Paul, 'I think if I might sometimes talk alittle to old Glubb, I should be able to do better.'

'Nonsense, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber. 'I couldn't hear of it. Thisis not the place for Glubbs of any kind. You must take the books down,I suppose, Dombey, one by one, and perfect yourself in the day'sinstalment of subject A, before you turn at all to subject B. I amsorry to say, Dombey, that your education appears to have been verymuch neglected.'

'So Papa says,' returned Paul; 'but I told you - I have been a weakchild. Florence knows I have. So does Wickam.'

'Who is Wickam?' asked Miss Blimber.

'She has been my nurse,' Paul answered.

'I must beg you not to mention Wickam to me, then,' said MissBlimber.'I couldn't allow it'.

'You asked me who she was,' said Paul.

'Very well,' returned Miss Blimber; 'but this is all very differentindeed from anything of that sort, Dombey, and I couldn't think ofpermitting it. As to having been weak, you must begin to be strong.And now take away the top book, if you please, Dombey, and return whenyou are master of the theme.'

Miss Blimber expressed her opinions on the subject of Paul'suninstructed state with a gloomy delight, as if she had expected thisresult, and were glad to find that they must be in constantcommunication. Paul withdrew with the top task, as he was told, andlaboured away at it, down below: sometimes remembering every word ofit, and sometimes forgetting it all, and everything else besides:until at last he ventured upstairs again to repeat the lesson, when itwas nearly all driven out of his head before he began, by MissBlimber's shutting up the book, and saying, 'Good, Dombey!' aproceeding so suggestive of the knowledge inside of her, that Paullooked upon the young lady with consternation, as a kind of learnedGuy Faux, or artificial Bogle, stuffed full of scholastic straw.

He acquitted himself very well, nevertheless; and Miss Blimber,commending him as giving promise of getting on fast, immediatelyprovided him with subject B; from which he passed to C, and even Dbefore dinner. It was hard work, resuming his studies, soon afterdinner; and he felt giddy and confused and drowsy and dull. But allthe other young gentlemen had similar sensations, and were obliged toresume their studies too, if there were any comfort in that. It was awonder that the great clock in the hall, instead of being constant toits first inquiry, never said, 'Gentlemen, we will now resume ourstudies,' for that phrase was often enough repeated in itsneighbourhood. The studies went round like a mighty wheel, and theyoung gentlemen were always stretched upon it.

After tea there were exercises again, and preparations for next dayby candlelight. And in due course there was bed; where, but for thatresumption of the studies which took place in dreams, were rest andsweet forgetfulness.

Oh Saturdays! Oh happy Saturdays, when Florence always came atnoon, and never would, in any weather, stay away, though Mrs Pipchinsnarled and growled, and worried her bitterly. Those Saturdays wereSabbaths for at least two little Christians among all the Jews, anddid the holy Sabbath work of strengthening and knitting up a brother'sand a sister's love.

Not even Sunday nights - the heavy Sunday nights, whose shadowdarkened the first waking burst of light on Sunday mornings - couldmar those precious Saturdays. Whether it was the great sea-shore,where they sat, and strolled together; or whether it was only MrsPipchin's dull back room, in which she sang to him so softly, with hisdrowsy head upon her arm; Paul never cared. It was Florence. That wasall he thought of. So, on Sunday nights, when the Doctor's dark doorstood agape to swallow him up for another week, the time was come fortaking leave of Florence; no one else.

Mrs Wickam had been drafted home to the house in town, and MissNipper, now a smart young woman, had come down. To many a singlecombat with Mrs Pipchin, did Miss Nipper gallantly devote herself, andif ever Mrs Pipchin in all her life had found her match, she had foundit now. Miss Nipper threw away the scabbard the first morning shearose in Mrs Pipchin's house. She asked and gave no quarter. She saidit must be war, and war it was; and Mrs Pipchin lived from that timein the midst of surprises, harassings, and defiances, and skirmishingattacks that came bouncing in upon her from the passage, even inunguarded moments of chops, and carried desolation to her very toast.

Miss Nipper had returned one Sunday night with Florence, fromwalking back with Paul to the Doctor's, when Florence took from herbosom a little piece of paper, on which she had pencilled down somewords.

'See here, Susan,' she said. 'These are the names of the littlebooks that Paul brings home to do those long exercises with, when heis so tired. I copied them last night while he was writing.'

'Don't show 'em to me, Miss Floy, if you please,' returned Nipper,'I'd as soon see Mrs Pipchin.'

'I want you to buy them for me, Susan, if you will, tomorrowmorning. I have money enough,' said Florence.

'Why, goodness gracious me, Miss Floy,' returned Miss Nipper, 'howcan you talk like that, when you have books upon books already, andmasterses and mississes a teaching of you everything continual, thoughmy belief is that your Pa, Miss Dombey, never would have learnt younothing, never would have thought of it, unless you'd asked him - whenhe couldn't well refuse; but giving consent when asked, and offeringwhen unasked, Miss, is quite two things; I may not have my objectionsto a young man's keeping company with me, and when he puts thequestion, may say "yes," but that's not saying "would you be so kindas like me."'

'But you can buy me the books, Susan; and you will, when you knowwhy I want them.'

'Well, Miss, and why do you want 'em?' replied Nipper; adding, in alower voice, 'If it was to fling at Mrs Pipchin's head, I'd buy acart-load.'

'Paul has a great deal too much to do, Susan,' said Florence, 'I amsure of it.'

'And well you may be, Miss,' returned her maid, 'and make your mindquite easy that the willing dear is worked and worked away. If thoseis Latin legs,' exclaimed Miss Nipper, with strong feeling - inallusion to Paul's; 'give me English ones.'

'I say nothing about blame, Miss,' cried Miss Nipper, 'for I knowthat you object, but I may wish, Miss, that the family was set to workto make new roads, and that Miss Blimber went in front and had thepickaxe.'

After this speech, Miss Nipper, who was perfectly serious, wipedher eyes.

'I think I could perhaps give Paul some help, Susan, if I had thesebooks,' said Florence, 'and make the coming week a little easier tohim. At least I want to try. So buy them for me, dear, and I willnever forget how kind it was of you to do it!'

It must have been a harder heart than Susan Nipper's that couldhave rejected the little purse Florence held out with these words, orthe gentle look of entreaty with which she seconded her petition.Susan put the purse in her pocket without reply, and trotted out atonce upon her errand.

The books were not easy to procure; and the answer at several shopswas, either that they were just out of them, or that they never keptthem, or that they had had a great many last month, or that theyexpected a great many next week But Susan was not easily baffled insuch an enterprise; and having entrapped a white-haired youth, in ablack calico apron, from a library where she was known, to accompanyher in her quest, she led him such a life in going up and down, thathe exerted himself to the utmost, if it were only to get rid of her;and finally enabled her to return home in triumph.

With these treasures then, after her own daily lessons were over,Florence sat down at night to track Paul's footsteps through thethorny ways of learning; and being possessed of a naturally quick andsound capacity, and taught by that most wonderful of masters, love, itwas not long before she gained upon Paul's heels, and caught andpassed him.

Not a word of this was breathed to Mrs Pipchin: but many a nightwhen they were all in bed, and when Miss Nipper, with her hair inpapers and herself asleep in some uncomfortable attitude, reposedunconscious by her side; and when the chinking ashes in the grate werecold and grey; and when the candles were burnt down and guttering out;- Florence tried so hard to be a substitute for one small Dombey, thather fortitude and perseverance might have almost won her a free rightto bear the name herself.

And high was her reward, when one Saturday evening, as little Paulwas sitting down as usual to 'resume his studies,' she sat down by hisside, and showed him all that was so rough, made smooth, and all thatwas so dark, made clear and plain, before him. It was nothing but astartled look in Paul's wan face - a flush - a smile - and then aclose embrace - but God knows how her heart leapt up at this richpayment for her trouble.

'Oh, Floy!' cried her brother, 'how I love you! How I love you,Floy!'

'And I you, dear!'

'Oh! I am sure of that, Floy.'

He said no more about it, but all that evening sat close by her,very quiet; and in the night he called out from his little room withinhers, three or four times, that he loved her.

Regularly, after that, Florence was prepared to sit down with Paulon Saturday night, and patiently assist him through so much as theycould anticipate together of his next week's work. The cheeringthought that he was labouring on where Florence had just toiled beforehim, would, of itself, have been a stimulant to Paul in the perpetualresumption of his studies; but coupled with the actual lightening ofhis load, consequent on this assistance, it saved him, possibly, fromsinking underneath the burden which the fair Cornelia Blimber piledupon his back.

It was not that Miss Blimber meant to be too hard upon him, or thatDoctor Blimber meant to bear too heavily on the young gentlemen ingeneral. Cornelia merely held the faith in which she had been bred;and the Doctor, in some partial confusion of his ideas, regarded theyoung gentlemen as if they were all Doctors, and were born grown up.Comforted by the applause of the young gentlemen's nearest relations,and urged on by their blind vanity and ill-considered haste, it wouldhave been strange if Doctor Blimber had discovered his mistake, ortrimmed his swelling sails to any other tack.

Thus in the case of Paul. When Doctor Blimber said he made greatprogress and was naturally clever, Mr Dombey was more bent than everon his being forced and crammed. In the case of Briggs, when DoctorBlimber reported that he did not make great progress yet, and was notnaturally clever, Briggs senior was inexorable in the same purpose. Inshort, however high and false the temperature at which the Doctor kepthis hothouse, the owners of the plants were always ready to lend ahelping hand at the bellows, and to stir the fire.

Such spirits as he had in the outset, Paul soon lost of course. Buthe retained all that was strange, and old, and thoughtful in hischaracter: and under circumstances so favourable to the development ofthose tendencies, became even more strange, and old, and thoughtful,than before.

The only difference was, that he kept his character to himself. Hegrew more thoughtful and reserved, every day; and had no suchcuriosity in any living member of the Doctor's household, as he hadhad in Mrs Pipchin. He loved to be alone; and in those short intervalswhen he was not occupied with his books, liked nothing so well aswandering about the house by himself, or sitting on the stairs,listening to the great clock in the hall. He was intimate with all thepaperhanging in the house; saw things that no one else saw in thepatterns; found out miniature tigers and lions running up the bedroomwalls, and squinting faces leering in the squares and diamonds of thefloor-cloth.

The solitary child lived on, surrounded by this arabesque work ofhis musing fancy, and no one understood him. Mrs Blimber thought him'odd,' and sometimes the servants said among themselves that littleDombey 'moped;' but that was all.

Unless young Toots had some idea on the subject, to the expressionof which he was wholly unequal. Ideas, like ghosts (according to thecommon notion of ghosts), must be spoken to a little before they willexplain themselves; and Toots had long left off asking any questionsof his own mind. Some mist there may have been, issuing from thatleaden casket, his cranium, which, if it could have taken shape andform, would have become a genie; but it could not; and it only so farfollowed the example of the smoke in the Arabian story, as to roll outin a thick cloud, and there hang and hover. But it left a littlefigure visible upon a lonely shore, and Toots was always staring atit.

'How are you?' he would say to Paul, fifty times a day. 'Quitewell, Sir, thank you,' Paul would answer. 'Shake hands,' would beToots's next advance.

Which Paul, of course, would immediately do. Mr Toots generallysaid again, after a long interval of staring and hard breathing, 'Howare you?' To which Paul again replied, 'Quite well, Sir, thank you.'

One evening Mr Toots was sitting at his desk, oppressed bycorrespondence, when a great purpose seemed to flash upon him. He laiddown his pen, and went off to seek Paul, whom he found at last, aftera long search, looking through the window of his little bedroom.

'I say!' cried Toots, speaking the moment he entered the room, lesthe should forget it; 'what do you think about?'

'Oh! I think about a great many things,' replied Paul.

'Do you, though?' said Toots, appearing to consider that fact initself surprising. 'If you had to die,' said Paul, looking up into hisface - Mr Toots started, and seemed much disturbed.

'Don't you think you would rather die on a moonlight night, whenthe sky was quite clear, and the wind blowing, as it did last night?'

Mr Toots said, looking doubtfully at Paul, and shaking his head,that he didn't know about that.

'Not blowing, at least,' said Paul, 'but sounding in the air likethe sea sounds in the shells. It was a beautiful night. When I hadlistened to the water for a long time, I got up and looked out. Therewas a boat over there, in the full light of the moon; a boat with asail.'

The child looked at him so steadfastly, and spoke so earnestly,that Mr Toots, feeling himself called upon to say something about thisboat, said, 'Smugglers.' But with an impartial remembrance of therebeing two sides to every question, he added, 'or Preventive.'

'A boat with a sail,' repeated Paul, 'in the full light of themoon. The sail like an arm, all silver. It went away into thedistance, and what do you think it seemed to do as it moved with thewaves?'

'Pitch,' said Mr Toots.

'It seemed to beckon,' said the child, 'to beckon me to come! -There she is! There she is!'

Toots was almost beside himself with dismay at this suddenexclamation, after what had gone before, and cried 'Who?'

His quick transition to a state of unbounded pleasure, as he stoodat his window, kissing and clapping his hands: and the way in whichthe light retreated from his features as she passed out of his view,and left a patient melancholy on the little face: were too remarkablewholly to escape even Toots's notice. Their interview beinginterrupted at this moment by a visit from Mrs Pipchin, who usuallybrought her black skirts to bear upon Paul just before dusk, once ortwice a week, Toots had no opportunity of improving the occasion: butit left so marked an impression on his mind that he twice returned,after having exchanged the usual salutations, to ask Mrs Pipchin howshe did. This the irascible old lady conceived to be a deeply devisedand long-meditated insult, originating in the diabolical invention ofthe weak-eyed young man downstairs, against whom she accordinglylodged a formal complaint with Doctor Blimber that very night; whomentioned to the young man that if he ever did it again, he should beobliged to part with him.

The evenings being longer now, Paul stole up to his window everyevening to look out for Florence. She always passed and repassed at acertain time, until she saw him; and their mutual recognition was agleam of sunshine in Paul's daily life. Often after dark, one otherfigure walked alone before the Doctor's house. He rarely joined themon the Saturdays now. He could not bear it. He would rather comeunrecognised, and look up at the windows where his son was qualifyingfor a man; and wait, and watch, and plan, and hope.

Oh! could he but have seen, or seen as others did, the slight spareboy above, watching the waves and clouds at twilight, with his earnesteyes, and breasting the window of his solitary cage when birds flewby, as if he would have emulated them, and soared away!

CHAPTER 13.

Shipping Intelligence and Office Business

Mr Dombey's offices were in a court where there was anold-established stall of choice fruit at the corner: whereperambulating merchants, of both sexes, offered for sale at any timebetween the hours of ten and five, slippers, pocket-books, sponges,dogs' collars, and Windsor soap; and sometimes a pointer or anoil-painting.

The pointer always came that way, with a view to the StockExchange, where a sporting taste (originating generally in bets of newhats) is much in vogue. The other commodities were addressed to thegeneral public; but they were never offered by the vendors to MrDombey. When he appeared, the dealers in those wares fell offrespectfully. The principal slipper and dogs' collar man - whoconsidered himself a public character, and whose portrait was screwedon to an artist's door in Cheapside - threw up his forefinger to thebrim of his hat as Mr Dombey went by. The ticket-porter, if he werenot absent on a job, always ran officiously before, to open MrDombey's office door as wide as possible, and hold it open, with hishat off, while he entered.

The clerks within were not a whit behind-hand in theirdemonstrations of respect. A solemn hush prevailed, as Mr Dombeypassed through the outer office. The wit of the Counting-House becamein a moment as mute as the row of leathern fire-buckets hanging upbehind him. Such vapid and flat daylight as filtered through theground-glass windows and skylights, leaving a black sediment upon thepanes, showed the books and papers, and the figures bending over them,enveloped in a studious gloom, and as much abstracted in appearance,from the world without, as if they were assembled at the bottom of thesea; while a mouldy little strong room in the obscure perspective,where a shaded lamp was always burning, might have represented thecavern of some ocean monster, looking on with a red eye at thesemysteries of the deep.

When Perch the messenger, whose place was on a little bracket, likea timepiece, saw Mr Dombey come in - or rather when he felt that hewas coming, for he had usually an instinctive sense of his approach -he hurried into Mr Dombey's room, stirred the fire, carried freshcoals from the bowels of the coal-box, hung the newspaper to air uponthe fender, put the chair ready, and the screen in its place, and wasround upon his heel on the instant of Mr Dombey's entrance, to takehis great-coat and hat, and hang them up. Then Perch took thenewspaper, and gave it a turn or two in his hands before the fire, andlaid it, deferentially, at Mr Dombey's elbow. And so little objectionhad Perch to being deferential in the last degree, that if he mighthave laid himself at Mr Dombey's feet, or might have called him bysome such title as used to be bestowed upon the Caliph HarounAlraschid, he would have been all the better pleased.

As this honour would have been an innovation and an experiment,Perch was fain to content himself by expressing as well as he could,in his manner, You are the light of my Eyes. You are the Breath of mySoul. You are the commander of the Faithful Perch! With this imperfecthappiness to cheer him, he would shut the door softly, walk away ontiptoe, and leave his great chief to be stared at, through adome-shaped window in the leads, by ugly chimney-pots and backs ofhouses, and especially by the bold window of a hair-cutting saloon ona first floor, where a waxen effigy, bald as a Mussulman in themorning, and covered, after eleven o'clock in the day, with luxurianthair and whiskers in the latest Christian fashion, showed him thewrong side of its head for ever.

Between Mr Dombey and the common world, as it was accessiblethrough the medium of the outer office - to which Mr Dombey's presencein his own room may be said to have struck like damp, or cold air -there were two degrees of descent. Mr Carker in his own office was thefirst step; Mr Morfin, in his own office, was the second. Each ofthese gentlemen occupied a little chamber like a bath-room, openingfrom the passage outside Mr Dombey's door. Mr Carker, as Grand Vizier,inhabited the room that was nearest to the Sultan. Mr Morfin, as anofficer of inferior state, inhabited the room that was nearest to theclerks.

The gentleman last mentioned was a cheerful-looking, hazel-eyedelderly bachelor: gravely attired, as to his upper man, in black; andas to his legs, in pepper-and-salt colour. His dark hair was justtouched here and there with specks of gray, as though the tread ofTime had splashed it; and his whiskers were already white. He had amighty respect for Mr Dombey, and rendered him due homage; but as hewas of a genial temper himself, and never wholly at his ease in thatstately presence, he was disquieted by no jealousy of the manyconferences enjoyed by Mr Carker, and felt a secret satisfaction inhaving duties to discharge, which rarely exposed him to be singled outfor such distinction. He was a great musical amateur in his way -after business; and had a paternal affection for his violoncello,which was once in every week transported from Islington, his place ofabode, to a certain club-room hard by the Bank, where quartettes ofthe most tormenting and excruciating nature were executed everyWednesday evening by a private party.

Mr Carker was a gentleman thirty-eight or forty years old, of aflorid complexion, and with two unbroken rows of glistening teeth,whose regularity and whiteness were quite distressing. It wasimpossible to escape the observation of them, for he showed themwhenever he spoke; and bore so wide a smile upon his countenance (asmile, however, very rarely, indeed, extending beyond his mouth), thatthere was something in it like the snarl of a cat. He affected a stiffwhite cravat, after the example of his principal, and was alwaysclosely buttoned up and tightly dressed. His manner towards Mr Dombeywas deeply conceived and perfectly expressed. He was familiar withhim, in the very extremity of his sense of the distance between them.'Mr Dombey, to a man in your position from a man in mine, there is noshow of subservience compatible with the transaction of businessbetween us, that I should think sufficient. I frankly tell you, Sir, Igive it up altogether. I feel that I could not satisfy my own mind;and Heaven knows, Mr Dombey, you can afford to dispense with theendeavour.' If he had carried these words about with him printed on aplacard, and had constantly offered it to Mr Dombey's perusal on thebreast of his coat, he could not have been more explicit than he was.

This was Carker the Manager. Mr Carker the Junior, Walter's friend,was his brother; two or three years older than he, but widely removedin station. The younger brother's post was on the top of the officialladder; the elder brother's at the bottom. The elder brother nevergained a stave, or raised his foot to mount one. Young men passedabove his head, and rose and rose; but he was always at the bottom. Hewas quite resigned to occupy that low condition: never complained ofit: and certainly never hoped to escape from it.

'How do you do this morning?' said Mr Carker the Manager, enteringMr Dombey's room soon after his arrival one day: with a bundle ofpapers in his hand.

'How do you do, Carker?' said Mr Dombey.

'Coolish!' observed Carker, stirring the fire.

'Rather,' said Mr Dombey.

'Any news of the young gentleman who is so important to us all?'asked Carker, with his whole regiment of teeth on parade.

'Yes - not direct news- I hear he's very well,' said Mr Dombey. Whohad come from Brighton over-night. But no one knew It.

'Very well, and becoming a great scholar, no doubt?' observed theManager.

'Oh! You! You have no reason to think so,' observed Carker. 'Onewho sits on such an elevation as yours, and can sit there, unmoved, inall seasons - hasn't much reason to know anything about the flight oftime. It's men like myself, who are low down and are not superior incircumstances, and who inherit new masters in the course of Time, thathave cause to look about us. I shall have a rising sun to worship,soon.'

'Time enough, time enough, Carker!' said Mr Dombey, rising from hischair, and standing with his back to the fire. 'Have you anythingthere for me?'

'I don't know that I need trouble you,' returned Carker, turningover the papers in his hand. 'You have a committee today at three, youknow.'

'And one at three, three-quarters,' added Mr Dombey.

'Catch you forgetting anything!' exclaimed Carker, still turningover his papers. 'If Mr Paul inherits your memory, he'll be atroublesome customer in the House. One of you is enough'

'You have an accurate memory of your own,' said Mr Dombey.

'Oh! I!' returned the manager. 'It's the only capital of a man likeme.'

Mr Dombey did not look less pompous or at all displeased, as hestood leaning against the chimney-piece, surveying his (of courseunconscious) clerk, from head to foot. The stiffness and nicety of MrCarker's dress, and a certain arrogance of manner, either natural tohim or imitated from a pattern not far off, gave great additionaleffect to his humility. He seemed a man who would contend against thepower that vanquished him, if he could, but who was utterly borne downby the greatness and superiority of Mr Dombey.

'Is Morfin here?' asked Mr Dombey after a short pause, during whichMr Carker had been fluttering his papers, and muttering littleabstracts of their contents to himself.

'Morfin's here,' he answered, looking up with his widest and almostsudden smile; 'humming musical recollections - of his last night'squartette party, I suppose - through the walls between us, and drivingme half mad. I wish he'd make a bonfire of his violoncello, and burnhis music-books in it.'

'You respect nobody, Carker, I think,' said Mr Dombey.

'No?' inquired Carker, with another wide and most feline show ofhis teeth. 'Well! Not many people, I believe. I wouldn't answerperhaps,' he murmured, as if he were only thinking it, 'for more thanone.'

A dangerous quality, if real; and a not less dangerous one, iffeigned. But Mr Dombey hardly seemed to think so, as he still stoodwith his back to the fire, drawn up to his full height, and looking athis head-clerk with a dignified composure, in which there seemed tolurk a stronger latent sense of power than usual.

'Talking of Morfin,' resumed Mr Carker, taking out one paper fromthe rest, 'he reports a junior dead in the agency at Barbados, andproposes to reserve a passage in the Son and Heir - she'll sail in amonth or so - for the successor. You don't care who goes, I suppose?We have nobody of that sort here.'

Mr Dombey shook his head with supreme indifference.

'It's no very precious appointment,' observed Mr Carker, taking upa pen, with which to endorse a memorandum on the back of the paper. 'Ihope he may bestow it on some orphan nephew of a musical friend. Itmay perhaps stop his fiddle-playing, if he has a gift that way. Who'sthat? Come in!'

At the mention of this name, Mr Carker the Manager was or affectedto be, touched to the quick with shame and humiliation. He cast hiseyes full on Mr Dombey with an altered and apologetic look, abasedthem on the ground, and remained for a moment without speaking.

'I thought, Sir,' he said suddenly and angrily, turning on Walter,'that you had been before requested not to drag Mr Carker the Juniorinto your conversation.'

'I beg your pardon,' returned Walter. 'I was only going to say thatMr Carker the Junior had told me he believed you were gone out, or Ishould not have knocked at the door when you were engaged with MrDombey. These are letters for Mr Dombey, Sir.'

But in taking them with so little ceremony, Mr Carker dropped oneon the floor, and did not see what he had done; neither did Mr Dombeyobserve the letter lying near his feet. Walter hesitated for a moment,thinking that one or other of them would notice it; but finding thatneither did, he stopped, came back, picked it up, and laid it himselfon Mr Dombey's desk. The letters were post-letters; and it happenedthat the one in question was Mrs Pipchin's regular report, directed asusual - for Mrs Pipchin was but an indifferent penwoman - by Florence.Mr Dombey, having his attention silently called to this letter byWalter, started, and looked fiercely at him, as if he believed that hehad purposely selected it from all the rest.

'You can leave the room, Sir!' said Mr Dombey, haughtily.

He crushed the letter in his hand; and having watched Walter out atthe door, put it in his pocket without breaking the seal.

'These continual references to Mr Carker the Junior,' Mr Carker theManager began, as soon as they were alone, 'are, to a man in myposition, uttered before one in yours, so unspeakably distressing - '

'Nonsense, Carker,' Mr Dombey interrupted. 'You are too sensitive.'

'I am sensitive,' he returned. 'If one in your position could byany possibility imagine yourself in my place: which you cannot: youwould be so too.'

As Mr Dombey's thoughts were evidently pursuing some other subject,his discreet ally broke off here, and stood with his teeth ready topresent to him, when he should look up.

'You want somebody to send to the West Indies, you were saying,'observed Mr Dombey, hurriedly.

'Yes,' replied Carker.

'Send young Gay.'

'Good, very good indeed. Nothing easier,' said Mr Carker, withoutany show of surprise, and taking up the pen to re-endorse the letter,as coolly as he had done before. '"Send young Gay."'

'Call him back,' said Mr Dombey.

Mr Carker was quick to do so, and Walter was quick to return.

'Gay,' said Mr Dombey, turning a little to look at him over hisshoulder. 'Here is a -

'An opening,' said Mr Carker, with his mouth stretched to theutmost.

'In the West Indies. At Barbados. I am going to send you,' said MrDombey, scorning to embellish the bare truth, 'to fill a juniorsituation in the counting-house at Barbados. Let your Uncle know fromme, that I have chosen you to go to the West Indies.'

Walter's breath was so completely taken away by his astonishment,that he could hardly find enough for the repetition of the words 'WestIndies.'

'Somebody must go,' said Mr Dombey, 'and you are young and healthy,and your Uncle's circumstances are not good. Tell your Uncle that youare appointed. You will not go yet. There will be an interval of amonth - or two perhaps.'

'Shall I remain there, Sir?' inquired Walter.

'Will you remain there, Sir!' repeated Mr Dombey, turning a littlemore round towards him. 'What do you mean? What does he mean, Carker?'

'Live there, Sir,' faltered Walter.

'Certainly,' returned Mr Dombey.

Walter bowed.

'That's all,' said Mr Dombey, resuming his letters. 'You willexplain to him in good time about the usual outfit and so forth,Carker, of course. He needn't wait, Carker.'

'You needn't wait, Gay,' observed Mr Carker: bare to the gums.

'Unless,' said Mr Dombey, stopping in his reading without lookingoff the letter, and seeming to listen. 'Unless he has anything tosay.'

'No, Sir,' returned Walter, agitated and confused, and almoststunned, as an infinite variety of pictures presented themselves tohis mind; among which Captain Cuttle, in his glazed hat, transfixedwith astonishment at Mrs MacStinger's, and his uncle bemoaning hisloss in the little back parlour, held prominent places. 'I hardly know- I - I am much obliged, Sir.'

'He needn't wait, Carker,' said Mr Dombey.

And as Mr Carker again echoed the words, and also collected hispapers as if he were going away too, Walter felt that his lingeringany longer would be an unpardonable intrusion - especially as he hadnothing to say - and therefore walked out quite confounded.

Going along the passage, with the mingled consciousness andhelplessness of a dream, he heard Mr Dombey's door shut again, as MrCarker came out: and immediately afterwards that gentleman called tohim.

Walter went to the outer office and apprised Mr Carker the Juniorof his errand, who accordingly came out from behind a partition wherehe sat alone in one corner, and returned with him to the room of MrCarker the Manager.

That gentleman was standing with his back to the fire, and hishands under his coat-tails, looking over his white cravat, asunpromisingly as Mr Dombey himself could have looked. He received themwithout any change in his attitude or softening of his harsh and blackexpression: merely signing to Walter to close the door.

'John Carker,' said the Manager, when this was done, turningsuddenly upon his brother, with his two rows of teeth bristling as ifhe would have bitten him, 'what is the league between you and thisyoung man, in virtue of which I am haunted and hunted by the mentionof your name? Is it not enough for you, John Carker, that I am yournear relation, and can't detach myself from that - '

'Say disgrace, James,' interposed the other in a low voice, findingthat he stammered for a word. 'You mean it, and have reason, saydisgrace.'

'From that disgrace,' assented his brother with keen emphasis, 'butis the fact to be blurted out and trumpeted, and proclaimedcontinually in the presence of the very House! In moments ofconfidence too? Do you think your name is calculated to harmonise inthis place with trust and confidence, John Carker?'

'No,' returned the other. 'No, James. God knows I have no suchthought.'

During this conversation, Walter had looked from one brother to theother, with pain and amazement. He who was the Senior in years, andJunior in the House, stood, with his eyes cast upon the ground, andhis head bowed, humbly listening to the reproaches of the other.Though these were rendered very bitter by the tone and look with whichthey were accompanied, and by the presence of Walter whom they so muchsurprised and shocked, he entered no other protest against them thanby slightly raising his right hand in a deprecatory manner, as if hewould have said, 'Spare me!' So, had they been blows, and he a braveman, under strong constraint, and weakened by bodily suffering, hemight have stood before the executioner.

Generous and quick in all his emotions, and regarding himself asthe innocent occasion of these taunts, Walter now struck in, with allthe earnestness he felt.

'Mr Carker,' he said, addressing himself to the Manager. 'Indeed,indeed, this is my fault solely. In a kind of heedlessness, for whichI cannot blame myself enough, I have, I have no doubt, mentioned MrCarker the Junior much oftener than was necessary; and have allowedhis name sometimes to slip through my lips, when it was against yourexpressed wish. But it has been my own mistake, Sir. We have neverexchanged one word upon the subject - very few, indeed, on anysubject. And it has not been,' added Walter, after a moment's pause,'all heedlessness on my part, Sir; for I have felt an interest in MrCarker ever since I have been here, and have hardly been able to helpspeaking of him sometimes, when I have thought of him so much!'

Walter said this from his soul, and with the very breath of honour.For he looked upon the bowed head, and the downcast eyes, and upraisedhand, and thought, 'I have felt it; and why should I not avow it inbehalf of this unfriended, broken man!'

Mr Carker the Manager looked at him, as he spoke, and when he hadfinished speaking, with a smile that seemed to divide his face intotwo parts.

'You are an excitable youth, Gay,' he said; 'and should endeavourto cool down a little now, for it would be unwise to encouragefeverish predispositions. Be as cool as you can, Gay. Be as cool asyou can. You might have asked Mr John Carker himself (if you have notdone so) whether he claims to be, or is, an object of such stronginterest.'

'James, do me justice,' said his brother. 'I have claimed nothing;and I claim nothing. Believe me, on my -

'Honour?' said his brother, with another smile, as he warmedhimself before the fire.

'On my Me - on my fallen life!' returned the other, in the same lowvoice, but with a deeper stress on his words than he had yet seemedcapable of giving them. 'Believe me, I have held myself aloof, andkept alone. This has been unsought by me. I have avoided him andeveryone.

'Indeed, you have avoided me, Mr Carker,' said Walter, with thetears rising to his eyes; so true was his compassion. 'I know it, tomy disappointment and regret. When I first came here, and ever since,I am sure I have tried to be as much your friend, as one of my agecould presume to be; but it has been of no use.

'And observe,' said the Manager, taking him up quickly, 'it will beof still less use, Gay, if you persist in forcing Mr John Carker'sname on people's attention. That is not the way to befriend Mr JohnCarker. Ask him if he thinks it is.'

'It is no service to me,' said the brother. 'It only leads to sucha conversation as the present, which I need not say I could have wellspared. No one can be a better friend to me:' he spoke here verydistinctly, as if he would impress it upon Walter: 'than in forgettingme, and leaving me to go my way, unquestioned and unnoticed.'

'Your memory not being retentive, Gay, of what you are told byothers,' said Mr Carker the Manager, warming himself with great andincreased satisfaction, 'I thought it well that you should be toldthis from the best authority,' nodding towards his brother. 'You arenot likely to forget it now, I hope. That's all, Gay. You can go.

Walter passed out at the door, and was about to close it after him,when, hearing the voices of the brothers again, and also the mentionof his own name, he stood irresolutely, with his hand upon the lock,and the door ajar, uncertain whether to return or go away. In thisposition he could not help overhearing what followed.

'Think of me more leniently, if you can, James,' said John Carker,'when I tell you I have had - how could I help having, with myhistory, written here' - striking himself upon the breast - 'my wholeheart awakened by my observation of that boy, Walter Gay. I saw in himwhen he first came here, almost my other self.'

'Your other self!' repeated the Manager, disdainfully.

'Not as I am, but as I was when I first came here too; as sanguine,giddy, youthful, inexperienced; flushed with the same restless andadventurous fancies; and full of the same qualities, fraught with thesame capacity of leading on to good or evil.'

'I hope not,' said his brother, with some hidden and sarcasticmeaning in his tone.

'You strike me sharply; and your hand is steady, and your thrust isvery deep,' returned the other, speaking (or so Walter thought) as ifsome cruel weapon actually stabbed him as he spoke. 'I imagined allthis when he was a boy. I believed it. It was a truth to me. I saw himlightly walking on the edge of an unseen gulf where so many otherswalk with equal gaiety, and from which

'The old excuse,' interrupted his brother, as he stirred the fire.'So many. Go on. Say, so many fall.'

'From which ONE traveller fell,' returned the other, 'who setforward, on his way, a boy like him, and missed his footing more andmore, and slipped a little and a little lower; and went on stumblingstill, until he fell headlong and found himself below a shattered man.Think what I suffered, when I watched that boy.'

'You have only yourself to thank for it,' returned the brother.

'Only myself,' he assented with a sigh. 'I don't seek to divide theblame or shame.'

'You have divided the shame,' James Carker muttered through histeeth. And, through so many and such close teeth, he could mutterwell.

'Ah, James,' returned his brother, speaking for the first time inan accent of reproach, and seeming, by the sound of his voice, to havecovered his face with his hands, 'I have been, since then, a usefulfoil to you. You have trodden on me freely in your climbing up. Don'tspurn me with your heel!'

A silence ensued. After a time, Mr Carker the Manager was heardrustling among his papers, as if he had resolved to bring theinterview to a conclusion. At the same time his brother withdrewnearer to the door.

'That's all,' he said. 'I watched him with such trembling and suchfear, as was some little punishment to me, until he passed the placewhere I first fell; and then, though I had been his father, I believeI never could have thanked God more devoutly. I didn't dare to warnhim, and advise him; but if I had seen direct cause, I would haveshown him my example. I was afraid to be seen speaking with him, lestit should be thought I did him harm, and tempted him to evil, andcorrupted him: or lest I really should. There may be such contagion inme; I don't know. Piece out my history, in connexion with young WalterGay, and what he has made me feel; and think of me more leniently,James, if you can.

With these words he came out to where Walter was standing. Heturned a little paler when he saw him there, and paler yet when Waltercaught him by the hand, and said in a whisper:

'Mr Carker, pray let me thank you! Let me say how much I feel foryou! How sorry I am, to have been the unhappy cause of all this! How Ialmost look upon you now as my protector and guardian! How very, verymuch, I feel obliged to you and pity you!' said Walter, squeezing bothhis hands, and hardly knowing, in his agitation, what he did or said.

Mr Morfin's room being close at hand and empty, and the door wideopen, they moved thither by one accord: the passage being seldom freefrom someone passing to or fro. When they were there, and Walter sawin Mr Carker's face some traces of the emotion within, he almost feltas if he had never seen the face before; it was so greatly changed.

'Walter,' he said, laying his hand on his shoulder. 'I am farremoved from you, and may I ever be. Do you know what I am?'

'What you are!' appeared to hang on Walter's lips, as he regardedhim attentively.

'It was begun,' said Carker, 'before my twenty-first birthday - ledup to, long before, but not begun till near that time. I had robbedthem when I came of age. I robbed them afterwards. Before mytwenty-second birthday, it was all found out; and then, Walter, fromall men's society, I died.'

Again his last few words hung trembling upon Walter's lips, but hecould neither utter them, nor any of his own.

'The House was very good to me. May Heaven reward the old man forhis forbearance! This one, too, his son, who was then newly in theFirm, where I had held great trust! I was called into that room whichis now his - I have never entered it since - and came out, what youknow me. For many years I sat in my present seat, alone as now, butthen a known and recognised example to the rest. They were allmerciful to me, and I lived. Time has altered that part of my poorexpiation; and I think, except the three heads of the House, there isno one here who knows my story rightly. Before the little boy growsup, and has it told to him, my corner may be vacant. I would ratherthat it might be so! This is the only change to me since that day,when I left all youth, and hope, and good men's company, behind me inthat room. God bless you, Walter! Keep you, and all dear to you, inhonesty, or strike them dead!'

Some recollection of his trembling from head to foot, as if withexcessive cold, and of his bursting into tears, was all that Waltercould add to this, when he tried to recall exactly what had passedbetween them.

When Walter saw him next, he was bending over his desk in his oldsilent, drooping, humbled way. Then, observing him at his work, andfeeling how resolved he evidently was that no further intercourseshould arise between them, and thinking again and again on all he hadseen and heard that morning in so short a time, in connexion with thehistory of both the Carkers, Walter could hardly believe that he wasunder orders for the West Indies, and would soon be lost to Uncle Sol,and Captain Cuttle, and to glimpses few and far between of FlorenceDombey - no, he meant Paul - and to all he loved, and liked, andlooked for, in his daily life.

But it was true, and the news had already penetrated to the outeroffice; for while he sat with a heavy heart, pondering on thesethings, and resting his head upon his arm, Perch the messenger,descending from his mahogany bracket, and jogging his elbow, beggedhis pardon, but wished to say in his ear, Did he think he couldarrange to send home to England a jar of preserved Ginger, cheap, forMrs Perch's own eating, in the course of her recovery from her nextconfinement?

CHAPTER 14.

Paul grows more and more Old-fashioned, and goes Home for the Holidays

When the Midsummer vacation approached, no indecent manifestationsof joy were exhibited by the leaden-eyed young gentlemen assembled atDoctor Blimber's. Any such violent expression as 'breaking up,' wouldhave been quite inapplicable to that polite establishment. The younggentlemen oozed away, semi-annually, to their own homes; but theynever broke up. They would have scorned the action.

Tozer, who was constantly galled and tormented by a starched whitecambric neckerchief, which he wore at the express desire of Mrs Tozer,his parent, who, designing him for the Church, was of opinion that hecouldn't be in that forward state of preparation too soon - Tozersaid, indeed, that choosing between two evils, he thought he wouldrather stay where he was, than go home. However inconsistent thisdeclaration might appear with that passage in Tozer's Essay on thesubject, wherein he had observed 'that the thoughts of home and allits recollections, awakened in his mind the most pleasing emotions ofanticipation and delight,' and had also likened himself to a RomanGeneral, flushed with a recent victory over the Iceni, or laden withCarthaginian spoil, advancing within a few hours' march of theCapitol, presupposed, for the purposes of the simile, to be thedwelling-place of Mrs Tozer, still it was very sincerely made. For itseemed that Tozer had a dreadful Uncle, who not only volunteeredexaminations of him, in the holidays, on abstruse points, but twistedinnocent events and things, and wrenched them to the same fellpurpose. So that if this Uncle took him to the Play, or, on a similarpretence of kindness, carried him to see a Giant, or a Dwarf, or aConjuror, or anything, Tozer knew he had read up some classicalallusion to the subject beforehand, and was thrown into a state ofmortal apprehension: not foreseeing where he might break out, or whatauthority he might not quote against him.

As to Briggs, his father made no show of artifice about it. Henever would leave him alone. So numerous and severe were the mentaltrials of that unfortunate youth in vacation time, that the friends ofthe family (then resident near Bayswater, London) seldom approachedthe ornamental piece of water in Kensington Gardens,' without a vagueexpectation of seeing Master Briggs's hat floating on the surface, andan unfinished exercise lying on the bank. Briggs, therefore, was notat all sanguine on the subject of holidays; and these two sharers oflittle Paul's bedroom were so fair a sample of the young gentlemen ingeneral, that the most elastic among them contemplated the arrival ofthose festive periods with genteel resignation.

It was far otherwise with little Paul. The end of these firstholidays was to witness his separation from Florence, but who everlooked forward to the end of holidays whose beginning was not yetcome! Not Paul, assuredly. As the happy time drew near, the lions andtigers climbing up the bedroom walls became quite tame and frolicsome.The grim sly faces in the squares and diamonds of the floor-cloth,relaxed and peeped out at him with less wicked eyes. The grave oldclock had more of personal interest in the tone of its formal inquiry;and the restless sea went rolling on all night, to the sounding of amelancholy strain - yet it was pleasant too - that rose and fell withthe waves, and rocked him, as it were, to sleep.

Mr Feeder, B.A., seemed to think that he, too, would enjoy theholidays very much. Mr Toots projected a life of holidays from thattime forth; for, as he regularly informed Paul every day, it was his'last half' at Doctor Blimber's, and he was going to begin to comeinto his property directly.

It was perfectly understood between Paul and Mr Toots, that theywere intimate friends, notwithstanding their distance in point ofyears and station. As the vacation approached, and Mr Toots breathedharder and stared oftener in Paul's society, than he had done before,Paul knew that he meant he was sorry they were going to lose sight ofeach other, and felt very much obliged to him for his patronage andgood opinion.

It was even understood by Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and MissBlimber, as well as by the young gentlemen in general, that Toots hadsomehow constituted himself protector and guardian of Dombey, and thecircumstance became so notorious, even to Mrs Pipchin, that the goodold creature cherished feelings of bitterness and jealousy againstToots; and, in the sanctuary of her own home, repeatedly denounced himas a 'chuckle-headed noodle.' Whereas the innocent Toots had no moreidea of awakening Mrs Pipchin's wrath, than he had of any otherdefinite possibility or proposition. On the contrary, he was disposedto consider her rather a remarkable character, with many points ofinterest about her. For this reason he smiled on her with so muchurbanity, and asked her how she did, so often, in the course of hervisits to little Paul, that at last she one night told him plainly,she wasn't used to it, whatever he might think; and she could not, andshe would not bear it, either from himself or any other puppy thenexisting: at which unexpected acknowledgment of his civilities, MrToots was so alarmed that he secreted himself in a retired spot untilshe had gone. Nor did he ever again face the doughty Mrs Pipchin,under Doctor Blimber's roof.

They were within two or three weeks of the holidays, when, one day,Cornelia Blimber called Paul into her room, and said, 'Dombey, I amgoing to send home your analysis.'

'Thank you, Ma'am,' returned Paul.

'You know what I mean, do you, Dombey?' inquired Miss Blimber,looking hard at him, through the spectacles.

'No, Ma'am,' said Paul.

'Dombey, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, 'I begin to be afraid you area sad boy. When you don't know the meaning of an expression, why don'tyou seek for information?'

'Mrs Pipchin told me I wasn't to ask questions,' returned Paul.

'I must beg you not to mention Mrs Pipchin to me, on any account,Dombey,' returned Miss Blimber. 'I couldn't think of allowing it. Thecourse of study here, is very far removed from anything of that sort.A repetition of such allusions would make it necessary for me torequest to hear, without a mistake, before breakfast-time to-morrowmorning, from Verbum personale down to simillimia cygno.'

'I didn't mean, Ma'am - ' began little Paul.

'I must trouble you not to tell me that you didn't mean, if youplease, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, who preserved an awful politenessin her admonitions. 'That is a line of argument I couldn't dream ofpermitting.'

Paul felt it safest to say nothing at all, so he only looked atMiss Blimber's spectacles. Miss Blimber having shaken her head at himgravely, referred to a paper lying before her.

'"Analysis of the character of P. Dombey." If my recollectionserves me,' said Miss Blimber breaking off, 'the word analysis asopposed to synthesis, is thus defined by Walker. "The resolution of anobject, whether of the senses or of the intellect, into its firstelements." As opposed to synthesis, you observe. Now you know whatanalysis is, Dombey.'

Dombey didn't seem to be absolutely blinded by the light let inupon his intellect, but he made Miss Blimber a little bow.

'"Analysis,"' resumed Miss Blimber, casting her eye over the paper,'"of the character of P. Dombey." I find that the natural capacity ofDombey is extremely good; and that his general disposition to studymay be stated in an equal ratio. Thus, taking eight as our standardand highest number, I find these qualities in Dombey stated each atsix three-fourths!'

Miss Blimber paused to see how Paul received this news. Beingundecided whether six three-fourths meant six pounds fifteen, orsixpence three farthings, or six foot three, or three quarters pastsix, or six somethings that he hadn't learnt yet, with three unknownsomething elses over, Paul rubbed his hands and looked straight atMiss Blimber. It happened to answer as well as anything else he couldhave done; and Cornelia proceeded.

'"Violence two. Selfishness two. Inclination to low company, asevinced in the case of a person named Glubb, originally seven, butsince reduced. Gentlemanly demeanour four, and improving withadvancing years." Now what I particularly wish to call your attentionto, Dombey, is the general observation at the close of this analysis.'

Paul set himself to follow it with great care.

'"It may be generally observed of Dombey,"' said Miss Blimber,reading in a loud voice, and at every second word directing herspectacles towards the little figure before her: '"that his abilitiesand inclinations are good, and that he has made as much progress asunder the circumstances could have been expected. But it is to belamented of this young gentleman that he is singular (what is usuallytermed old-fashioned) in his character and conduct, and that, withoutpresenting anything in either which distinctly calls for reprobation,he is often very unlike other young gentlemen of his age and socialposition." Now, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, laying down the paper, 'doyou understand that?'

'I think I do, Ma'am,' said Paul.

'This analysis, you see, Dombey,' Miss Blimber continued, 'is goingto be sent home to your respected parent. It will naturally be verypainful to him to find that you are singular in your character andconduct. It is naturally painful to us; for we can't like you, youknow, Dombey, as well as we could wish.'

She touched the child upon a tender point. He had secretly becomemore and more solicitous from day to day, as the time of his departuredrew more near, that all the house should like him. From some hiddenreason, very imperfectly understood by himself - if understood at all- he felt a gradually increasing impulse of affection, towards almosteverything and everybody in the place. He could not bear to think thatthey would be quite indifferent to him when he was gone. He wantedthem to remember him kindly; and he had made it his business even toconciliate a great hoarse shaggy dog, chained up at the back of thehouse, who had previously been the terror of his life: that even hemight miss him when he was no longer there.

Little thinking that in this, he only showed again the differencebetween himself and his compeers, poor tiny Paul set it forth to MissBlimber as well as he could, and begged her, in despite of theofficial analysis, to have the goodness to try and like him. To MrsBlimber, who had joined them, he preferred the same petition: and whenthat lady could not forbear, even in his presence, from givingutterance to her often-repeated opinion, that he was an odd child,Paul told her that he was sure she was quite right; that he thought itmust be his bones, but he didn't know; and that he hoped she wouldoverlook it, for he was fond of them all.

'Not so fond,' said Paul, with a mixture of timidity and perfectfrankness, which was one of the most peculiar and most engagingqualities of the child, 'not so fond as I am of Florence, of course;that could never be. You couldn't expect that, could you, Ma'am?'

'Oh! the old-fashioned little soul!' cried Mrs Blimber, in awhisper.

'But I like everybody here very much,' pursued Paul, 'and I shouldgrieve to go away, and think that anyone was glad that I was gone, ordidn't care.'

Mrs Blimber was now quite sure that Paul was the oddest child inthe world; and when she told the Doctor what had passed, the Doctordid not controvert his wife's opinion. But he said, as he had saidbefore, when Paul first came, that study would do much; and he alsosaid, as he had said on that occasion, 'Bring him on, Cornelia! Bringhim on!'

Cornelia had always brought him on as vigorously as she could; andPaul had had a hard life of it. But over and above the getting throughhis tasks, he had long had another purpose always present to him, andto which he still held fast. It was, to be a gentle, useful, quietlittle fellow, always striving to secure the love and attachment ofthe rest; and though he was yet often to be seen at his old post onthe stairs, or watching the waves and clouds from his solitary window,he was oftener found, too, among the other boys, modestly renderingthem some little voluntary service. Thus it came to pass, that evenamong those rigid and absorbed young anchorites, who mortifiedthemselves beneath the roof of Doctor Blimber, Paul was an object ofgeneral interest; a fragile little plaything that they all liked, andthat no one would have thought of treating roughly. But he could notchange his nature, or rewrite the analysis; and so they all agreedthat Dombey was old-fashioned.

There were some immunities, however, attaching to the characterenjoyed by no one else. They could have better spared anewer-fashioned child, and that alone was much. When the others onlybowed to Doctor Blimber and family on retiring for the night, Paulwould stretch out his morsel of a hand, and boldly shake the Doctor's;also Mrs Blimber's; also Cornelia's. If anybody was to be begged offfrom impending punishment, Paul was always the delegate. The weak-eyedyoung man himself had once consulted him, in reference to a littlebreakage of glass and china. And it was darKly rumoured that thebutler, regarding him with favour such as that stern man had nevershown before to mortal boy, had sometimes mingled porter with histable-beer to make him strong.

Over and above these extensive privileges, Paul had free right ofentry to Mr Feeder's room, from which apartment he had twice led MrToots into the open air in a state of faintness, consequent on anunsuccessful attempt to smoke a very blunt cigar: one of a bundlewhich that young gentleman had covertly purchased on the shingle froma most desperate smuggler, who had acknowledged, in confidence, thattwo hundred pounds was the price set upon his head, dead or alive, bythe Custom House. It was a snug room, Mr Feeder's, with his bed inanother little room inside of it; and a flute, which Mr Feedercouldn't play yet, but was going to make a point of learning, he said,hanging up over the fireplace. There were some books in it, too, and afishing-rod; for Mr Feeder said he should certainly make a point oflearning to fish, when he could find time. Mr Feeder had amassed, withsimilar intentions, a beautiful little curly secondhand key-bugle, achess-board and men, a Spanish Grammar, a set of sketching materials,and a pair of boxing-gloves. The art of self-defence Mr Feeder said heshould undoubtedly make a point of learning, as he considered it theduty of every man to do; for it might lead to the protection of afemale in distress. But Mr Feeder's great possession was a large greenjar of snuff, which Mr Toots had brought down as a present, at theclose of the last vacation; and for which he had paid a high price,having been the genuine property of the Prince Regent. Neither MrToots nor Mr Feeder could partake of this or any other snuff, even inthe most stinted and moderate degree, without being seized withconvulsions of sneezing. Nevertheless it was their great delight tomoisten a box-full with cold tea, stir it up on a piece of parchmentwith a paper-knife, and devote themselves to its consumption then andthere. In the course of which cramming of their noses, they enduredsurprising torments with the constancy of martyrs: and, drinkingtable-beer at intervals, felt all the glories of dissipation.

To little Paul sitting silent in their company, and by the side ofhis chief patron, Mr Toots, there was a dread charm in these recklessoccasions: and when Mr Feeder spoke of the dark mysteries of London,and told Mr Toots that he was going to observe it himself closely inall its ramifications in the approaching holidays, and for thatpurpose had made arrangements to board with two old maiden ladies atPeckham, Paul regarded him as if he were the hero of some book oftravels or wild adventure, and was almost afraid of such a slashingperson.

Going into this room one evening, when the holidays were very near,Paul found Mr Feeder filling up the blanks in some printed letters,while some others, already filled up and strewn before him, were beingfolded and sealed by Mr Toots. Mr Feeder said, 'Aha, Dombey, there youare, are you?' - for they were always kind to him, and glad to see him- and then said, tossing one of the letters towards him, 'And thereyou are, too, Dombey. That's yours.'

'Mine, Sir?' said Paul.

'Your invitation,' returned Mr Feeder.

Paul, looking at it, found, in copper-plate print, with theexception of his own name and the date, which were in Mr Feeder'spenmanship, that Doctor and Mrs Blimber requested the pleasure of MrP. Dombey's company at an early party on Wednesday Evening theSeventeenth Instant; and that the hour was half-past seven o'clock;and that the object was Quadrilles. Mr Toots also showed him, byholding up a companion sheet of paper, that Doctor and Mrs Blimberrequested the pleasure of Mr Toots's company at an early party onWednesday Evening the Seventeenth Instant, when the hour was half-pastseven o'clock, and when the object was Quadrilles. He also found, onglancing at the table where Mr Feeder sat, that the pleasure of MrBriggs's company, and of Mr Tozer's company, and of every younggentleman's company, was requested by Doctor and Mrs Blimber on thesame genteel Occasion.

Mr Feeder then told him, to his great joy, that his sister wasinvited, and that it was a half-yearly event, and that, as theholidays began that day, he could go away with his sister after theparty, if he liked, which Paul interrupted him to say he would like,very much. Mr Feeder then gave him to understand that he would beexpected to inform Doctor and Mrs Blimber, in superfine small-hand,that Mr P. Dombey would be happy to have the honour of waiting onthem, in accordance with their polite invitation. Lastly, Mr Feedersaid, he had better not refer to the festive occasion, in the hearingof Doctor and Mrs Blimber; as these preliminaries, and the whole ofthe arrangements, were conducted on principles of classicality andhigh breeding; and that Doctor and Mrs Blimber on the one hand, andthe young gentlemen on the other, were supposed, in their scholasticcapacities, not to have the least idea of what was in the wind.

Paul thanked Mr Feeder for these hints, and pocketing hisinvitation, sat down on a stool by the side of Mr Toots, as usual. ButPaul's head, which had long been ailing more or less, and wassometimes very heavy and painful, felt so uneasy that night, that hewas obliged to support it on his hand. And yet it dropped so, that bylittle and little it sunk on Mr Toots's knee, and rested there, as ifit had no care to be ever lifted up again.

That was no reason why he should be deaf; but he must have been, hethought, for, by and by, he heard Mr Feeder calling in his ear, andgently shaking him to rouse his attention. And when he raised hishead, quite scared, and looked about him, he found that Doctor Blimberhad come into the room; and that the window was open, and that hisforehead was wet with sprinkled water; though how all this had beendone without his knowledge, was very curious indeed.

But there seemed to be something the matter with the floor, for hecouldn't stand upon it steadily; and with the walls too, for they wereinclined to turn round and round, and could only be stopped by beinglooked at very hard indeed. Mr Toots's head had the appearance ofbeing at once bigger and farther off than was quite natural; and whenhe took Paul in his arms, to carry him upstairs, Paul observed withastonishment that the door was in quite a different place from that inwhich he had expected to find it, and almost thought, at first, thatMr Toots was going to walk straight up the chimney.

It was very kind of Mr Toots to carry him to the top of the houseso tenderly; and Paul told him that it was. But Mr Toots said he woulddo a great deal more than that, if he could; and indeed he did more asit was: for he helped Paul to undress, and helped him to bed, in thekindest manner possible, and then sat down by the bedside and chuckledvery much; while Mr Feeder, B.A., leaning over the bottom of thebedstead, set all the little bristles on his head bolt upright withhis bony hands, and then made believe to spar at Paul with greatscience, on account of his being all right again, which was souncommonly facetious, and kind too in Mr Feeder, that Paul, not beingable to make up his mind whether it was best to laugh or cry at him,did both at once.

How Mr Toots melted away, and Mr Feeder changed into Mrs Pipchin,Paul never thought of asking; neither was he at all curious to know;but when he saw Mrs Pipchin standing at the bottom of the bed, insteadof Mr Feeder, he cried out, 'Mrs Pipchin, don't tell Florence!'

'Don't tell Florence what, my little Paul?' said Mrs Pipchin,coming round to the bedside, and sitting down in the chair.

'About me,' said Paul.

'No, no,' said Mrs Pipchin.

'What do you think I mean to do when I grow up, Mrs Pipchin?'inquired Paul, turning his face towards her on his pillow, and restinghis chin wistfully on his folded hands.

Mrs Pipchin couldn't guess.

'I mean,' said Paul, 'to put my money all together in one Bank,never try to get any more, go away into the country with my darlingFlorence, have a beautiful garden, fields, and woods, and live therewith her all my life!'

'Indeed!' cried Mrs Pipchin.

'Yes,' said Paul. 'That's what I mean to do, when I - ' He stopped,and pondered for a moment.

Mrs Pipchin's grey eye scanned his thoughtful face.

'If I grow up,' said Paul. Then he went on immediately to tell MrsPipchin all about the party, about Florence's invitation, about thepride he would have in the admiration that would be felt for her byall the boys, about their being so kind to him and fond of him, abouthis being so fond of them, and about his being so glad of it. Then hetold Mrs Pipchin about the analysis, and about his being certainlyold-fashioned, and took Mrs Pipchin's opinion on that point, andwhether she knew why it was, and what it meant. Mrs Pipchin denied thefact altogether, as the shortest way of getting out of the difficulty;but Paul was far from satisfied with that reply, and looked sosearchingly at Mrs Pipchin for a truer answer, that she was obliged toget up and look out of the window to avoid his eyes.

There was a certain calm Apothecary, 'who attended at theestablishment when any of the young gentlemen were ill, and somehow hegot into the room and appeared at the bedside, with Mrs Blimber. Howthey came there, or how long they had been there, Paul didn't know;but when he saw them, he sat up in bed, and answered all theApothecary's questions at full length, and whispered to him thatFlorence was not to know anything about it, if he pleased, and that hehad set his mind upon her coming to the party. He was very chatty withthe Apothecary, and they parted excellent friends. Lying down againwith his eyes shut, he heard the Apothecary say, out of the room andquite a long way off - or he dreamed it - that there was a want ofvital power (what was that, Paul wondered!) and great constitutionalweakness. That as the little fellow had set his heart on parting withhis school-mates on the seventeenth, it would be better to indulge thefancy if he grew no worse. That he was glad to hear from Mrs Pipchin,that the little fellow would go to his friends in London on theeighteenth. That he would write to Mr Dombey, when he should havegained a better knowledge of the case, and before that day. That therewas no immediate cause for - what? Paul lost that word And that thelittle fellow had a fine mind, but was an old-fashioned boy.

What old fashion could that be, Paul wondered with a palpitatingheart, that was so visibly expressed in him; so plainly seen by somany people!

He could neither make it out, nor trouble himself long with theeffort. Mrs Pipchin was again beside him, if she had ever been away(he thought she had gone out with the Doctor, but it was all a dreamperhaps), and presently a bottle and glass got into her handsmagically, and she poured out the contents for him. After that, he hadsome real good jelly, which Mrs Blimber brought to him herself; andthen he was so well, that Mrs Pipchin went home, at his urgentsolicitation, and Briggs and Tozer came to bed. Poor Briggs grumbledterribly about his own analysis, which could hardly have discomposedhim more if it had been a chemical process; but he was very good toPaul, and so was Tozer, and so were all the rest, for they every onelooked in before going to bed, and said, 'How are you now, Dombey?''Cheer up, little Dombey!' and so forth. After Briggs had got intobed, he lay awake for a long time, still bemoaning his analysis, andsaying he knew it was all wrong, and they couldn't have analysed amurderer worse, and - how would Doctor Blimber like it if hispocket-money depended on it? It was very easy, Briggs said, to make agalley-slave of a boy all the half-year, and then score him up idle;and to crib two dinners a-week out of his board, and then score him upgreedy; but that wasn't going to be submitted to, he believed, was it?Oh! Ah!

Before the weak-eyed young man performed on the gong next morning,he came upstairs to Paul and told him he was to lie still, which Paulvery gladly did. Mrs Pipchin reappeared a little before theApothecary, and a little after the good young woman whom Paul had seencleaning the stove on that first morning (how long ago it seemed now!)had brought him his breakfast. There was another consultation a longway off, or else Paul dreamed it again; and then the Apothecary,coming back with Doctor and Mrs Blimber, said:

'Yes, I think, Doctor Blimber, we may release this young gentlemanfrom his books just now; the vacation being so very near at hand.'

'By all means,' said Doctor Blimber. 'My love, you will informCornelia, if you please.'

'Assuredly,' said Mrs Blimber.

The Apothecary bending down, looked closely into Paul's eyes, andfelt his head, and his pulse, and his heart, with so much interest andcare, that Paul said, 'Thank you, Sir.'

'Our little friend,' observed Doctor Blimber, 'has nevercomplained.'

'Oh no!' replied the Apothecary. 'He was not likely to complain.'

'You find him greatly better?' said Doctor Blimber.

'Oh! he is greatly better, Sir,' returned the Apothecary.

Paul had begun to speculate, in his own odd way, on the subjectthat might occupy the Apothecary's mind just at that moment; somusingly had he answered the two questions of Doctor Blimber. But theApothecary happening to meet his little patient's eyes, as the latterset off on that mental expedition, and coming instantly out of hisabstraction with a cheerful smile, Paul smiled in return and abandonedit.

He lay in bed all that day, dozing and dreaming, and looking at MrToots; but got up on the next, and went downstairs. Lo and behold,there was something the matter with the great clock; and a workman ona pair of steps had taken its face off, and was poking instrumentsinto the works by the light of a candle! This was a great event forPaul, who sat down on the bottom stair, and watched the operationattentively: now and then glancing at the clock face, leaning allaskew, against the wall hard by, and feeling a little confused by asuspicion that it was ogling him.

The workman on the steps was very civil; and as he said, when heobserved Paul, 'How do you do, Sir?' Paul got into conversation withhim, and told him he hadn't been quite well lately. The ice being thusbroken, Paul asked him a multitude of questions about chimes andclocks: as, whether people watched up in the lonely church steeples bynight to make them strike, and how the bells were rung when peopledied, and whether those were different bells from wedding bells, oronly sounded dismal in the fancies of the living. Finding that his newacquaintance was not very well informed on the subject of the CurfewBell of ancient days, Paul gave him an account of that institution;and also asked him, as a practical man, what he thought about KingAlfred's idea of measuring time by the burning of candles; to whichthe workman replied, that he thought it would be the ruin of the clocktrade if it was to come up again. In fine, Paul looked on, until theclock had quite recovered its familiar aspect, and resumed its sedateinquiry; when the workman, putting away his tools in a long basket,bade him good day, and went away. Though not before he had whisperedsomething, on the door-mat, to the footman, in which there was thephrase 'old-fashioned' - for Paul heard it. What could that oldfashion be, that seemed to make the people sorry! What could it be!

Having nothing to learn now, he thought of this frequently; thoughnot so often as he might have done, if he had had fewer things tothink of. But he had a great many; and was always thinking, all daylong.

First, there was Florence coming to the party. Florence would seethat the boys were fond of him; and that would make her happy. Thiswas his great theme. Let Florence once be sure that they were gentleand good to him, and that he had become a little favourite among them,and then the would always think of the time he had passed there,without being very sorry. Florence might be all the happier too forthat, perhaps, when he came back.

When he came back! Fifty times a day, his noiseless little feetwent up the stairs to his own room, as he collected every book, andscrap, and trifle that belonged to him, and put them all togetherthere, down to the minutest thing, for taking home! There was no shadeof coming back on little Paul; no preparation for it, or otherreference to it, grew out of anything he thought or did, except thisslight one in connexion with his sister. On the contrary, he had tothink of everything familiar to him, in his contemplative moods and inhis wanderings about the house, as being to be parted with; and hencethe many things he had to think of, all day long.

He had to peep into those rooms upstairs, and think how solitarythey would be when he was gone, and wonder through how many silentdays, weeks, months, and years, they would continue just as grave andundisturbed. He had to think - would any other child (old-fashioned,like himself stray there at any time, to whom the same grotesquedistortions of pattern and furniture would manifest themselves; andwould anybody tell that boy of little Dombey, who had been there once?He had to think of a portrait on the stairs, which always lookedearnestly after him as he went away, eyeing it over his shoulder; andwhich, when he passed it in the company of anyone, still seemed togaze at him, and not at his companion. He had much to think of, inassociation with a print that hung up in another place, where, in thecentre of a wondering group, one figure that he knew, a figure with alight about its head - benignant, mild, and merciful - stood pointingupward.

At his own bedroom window, there were crowds of thoughts that mixedwith these, and came on, one upon another, like the rolling waves.Where those wild birds lived, that were always hovering out at sea introubled weather; where the clouds rose and first began; whence thewind issued on its rushing flight, and where it stopped; whether thespot where he and Florence had so often sat, and watched, and talkedabout these things, could ever be exactly as it used to be withoutthem; whether it could ever be the same to Florence, if he were insome distant place, and she were sitting there alone.

He had to think, too, of Mr Toots, and Mr Feeder, B.A., of all theboys; and of Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber; of home,and of his aunt and Miss Tox; of his father; Dombey and Son, Walterwith the poor old Uncle who had got the money he wanted, and thatgruff-voiced Captain with the iron hand. Besides all this, he had anumber of little visits to pay, in the course of the day; to theschoolroom, to Doctor Blimber's study, to Mrs Blimber's privateapartment, to Miss Blimber's, and to the dog. For he was free of thewhole house now, to range it as he chose; and, in his desire to partwith everybody on affectionate terms, he attended, in his way, to themall. Sometimes he found places in books for Briggs, who was alwayslosing them; sometimes he looked up words in dictionaries for otheryoung gentlemen who were in extremity; sometimes he held skeins ofsilk for Mrs Blimber to wind; sometimes he put Cornelia's desk torights; sometimes he would even creep into the Doctor's study, and,sitting on the carpet near his learned feet, turn the globes softly,and go round the world, or take a flight among the far-off stars.

In those days immediately before the holidays, in short, when theother young gentlemen were labouring for dear life through a generalresumption of the studies of the whole half-year, Paul was such aprivileged pupil as had never been seen in that house before. He couldhardly believe it himself; but his liberty lasted from hour to hour,and from day to day; and little Dombey was caressed by everyone.Doctor Blimber was so particular about him, that he requested Johnsonto retire from the dinner-table one day, for having thoughtlesslyspoken to him as 'poor little Dombey;' which Paul thought rather hardand severe, though he had flushed at the moment, and wondered whyJohnson should pity him. It was the more questionable justice, Paulthought, in the Doctor, from his having certainly overheard that greatauthority give his assent on the previous evening, to the proposition(stated by Mrs Blimber) that poor dear little Dombey was moreold-fashioned than ever. And now it was that Paul began to think itmust surely be old-fashioned to be very thin, and light, and easilytired, and soon disposed to lie down anywhere and rest; for hecouldn't help feeling that these were more and more his habits everyday.

At last the party-day arrived; and Doctor Blimber said atbreakfast, 'Gentlemen, we will resume our studies on the twenty-fifthof next month.' Mr Toots immediately threw off his allegiance, and puton his ring: and mentioning the Doctor in casual conversation shortlyafterwards, spoke of him as 'Blimber'! This act of freedom inspiredthe older pupils with admiration and envy; but the younger spiritswere appalled, and seemed to marvel that no beam fell down and crushedhim.

Not the least allusion was made to the ceremonies of the evening,either at breakfast or at dinner; but there was a bustle in the houseall day, and in the course of his perambulations, Paul madeacquaintance with various strange benches and candlesticks, and met aharp in a green greatcoat standing on the landing outside thedrawing-room door. There was something queer, too, about Mrs Blimber'shead at dinner-time, as if she had screwed her hair up too tight; andthough Miss Blimber showed a graceful bunch of plaited hair on eachtemple, she seemed to have her own little curls in paper underneath,and in a play-bill too; for Paul read 'Theatre Royal' over one of hersparkling spectacles, and 'Brighton' over the other.

There was a grand array of white waistcoats and cravats in theyoung gentlemen's bedrooms as evening approached; and such a smell ofsinged hair, that Doctor Blimber sent up the footman with hiscompliments, and wished to know if the house was on fire. But it wasonly the hairdresser curling the young gentlemen, and over-heating histongs in the ardour of business.

When Paul was dressed - which was very soon done, for he feltunwell and drowsy, and was not able to stand about it very long - hewent down into the drawing-room; where he found Doctor Blimber pacingup and down the room full dressed, but with a dignified andunconcerned demeanour, as if he thought it barely possible that one ortwo people might drop in by and by. Shortly afterwards, Mrs Blimberappeared, looking lovely, Paul thought; and attired in such a numberof skirts that it was quite an excursion to walk round her. MissBlimber came down soon after her Mama; a little squeezed inappearance, but very charming.

Mr Toots and Mr Feeder were the next arrivals. Each of thesegentlemen brought his hat in his hand, as if he lived somewhere else;and when they were announced by the butler, Doctor Blimber said, 'Ay,ay, ay! God bless my soul!' and seemed extremely glad to see them. MrToots was one blaze of jewellery and buttons; and he felt thecircumstance so strongly, that when he had shaken hands with theDoctor, and had bowed to Mrs Blimber and Miss Blimber, he took Paulaside, and said, 'What do you think of this, Dombey?'

But notwithstanding this modest confidence in himself, Mr Tootsappeared to be involved in a good deal of uncertainty whether, on thewhole, it was judicious to button the bottom button of his waistcoat,and whether, on a calm revision of all the circumstances, it was bestto wear his waistbands turned up or turned down. Observing that MrFeeder's were turned up, Mr Toots turned his up; but the waistbands ofthe next arrival being turned down, Mr Toots turned his down. Thedifferences in point of waistcoat-buttoning, not only at the bottom,but at the top too, became so numerous and complicated as the arrivalsthickened, that Mr Toots was continually fingering that article ofdress, as if he were performing on some instrument; and appeared tofind the incessant execution it demanded, quite bewildering. All theyoung gentlemen, tightly cravatted, curled, and pumped, and with theirbest hats in their hands, having been at different times announced andintroduced, Mr Baps, the dancing-master, came, accompanied by MrsBaps, to whom Mrs Blimber was extremely kind and condescending. MrBaps was a very grave gentleman, with a slow and measured manner ofspeaking; and before he had stood under the lamp five minutes, hebegan to talk to Toots (who had been silently comparing pumps withhim) about what you were to do with your raw materials when they cameinto your ports in return for your drain of gold. Mr Toots, to whomthe question seemed perplexing, suggested 'Cook 'em.' But Mr Baps didnot appear to think that would do.

Paul now slipped away from the cushioned corner of a sofa, whichhad been his post of observation, and went downstairs into thetea-room to be ready for Florence, whom he had not seen for nearly afortnight, as he had remained at Doctor Blimber's on the previousSaturday and Sunday, lest he should take cold. Presently she came:looking so beautiful in her simple ball dress, with her fresh flowersin her hand, that when she knelt down on the ground to take Paul roundthe neck and kiss him (for there was no one there, but his friend andanother young woman waiting to serve out the tea), he could hardlymake up his mind to let her go again, or to take away her bright andloving eyes from his face.

'But what is the matter, Floy?' asked Paul, almost sure that he sawa tear there.

'Nothing, darling; nothing,' returned Florence.

Paul touched her cheek gently with his finger - and it was a tear!'Why, Floy!' said he.

'We'll go home together, and I'll nurse you, love,' said Florence.

'Nurse me!' echoed Paul.

Paul couldn't understand what that had to do with it, nor why thetwo young women looked on so seriously, nor why Florence turned awayher face for a moment, and then turned it back, lighted up again withsmiles.

'Floy,' said Paul, holding a ringlet of her dark hair in his hand.'Tell me, dear, Do you think I have grown old-fashioned?'

His sister laughed, and fondled him, and told him 'No.'

'Because I know they say so,' returned Paul, 'and I want to knowwhat they mean, Floy.' But a loud double knock coming at the door, andFlorence hurrying to the table, there was no more said between them.Paul wondered again when he saw his friend whisper to Florence, as ifshe were comforting her; but a new arrival put that out of his headspeedily.

It was Sir Barnet Skettles, Lady Skettles, and Master Skettles.Master Skettles was to be a new boy after the vacation, and Fame hadbeen busy, in Mr Feeder's room, with his father, who was in the Houseof Commons, and of whom Mr Feeder had said that when he did catch theSpeaker's eye (which he had been expected to do for three or fouryears), it was anticipated that he would rather touch up the Radicals.

'And what room is this now, for instance?' said Lady Skettles toPaul's friend, 'Melia.

'Doctor Blimber's study, Ma'am,' was the reply.

Lady Skettles took a panoramic survey of it through her glass, andsaid to Sir Barnet Skettles, with a nod of approval, 'Very good.' SirBarnet assented, but Master Skettles looked suspicious and doubtful.

'And this little creature, now,' said Lady Skettles, turning toPaul. 'Is he one of the

'Young gentlemen, Ma'am; yes, Ma'am,' said Paul's friend.

'And what is your name, my pale child?' said Lady Skettles.

'Dombey,' answered Paul.

Sir Barnet Skettles immediately interposed, and said that he hadhad the honour of meeting Paul's father at a public dinner, and thathe hoped he was very well. Then Paul heard him say to Lady Skettles,'City - very rich - most respectable - Doctor mentioned it.' And thenhe said to Paul, 'Will you tell your good Papa that Sir BarnetSkettles rejoiced to hear that he was very well, and sent him his bestcompliments?'

'Yes, Sir,' answered Paul.

'That is my brave boy,' said Sir Barnet Skettles. 'Barnet,' toMaster Skettles, who was revenging himself for the studies to come, onthe plum-cake, 'this is a young gentleman you ought to know. This is ayoung gentleman you may know, Barnet,' said Sir Barnet Skettles, withan emphasis on the permission.

'What eyes! What hair! What a lovely face!' exclaimed Lady Skettlessoftly, as she looked at Florence through her glass. 'My sister,' saidPaul, presenting her.

The satisfaction of the Skettleses was now complex And as LadySkettles had conceived, at first sight, a liking for Paul, they allwent upstairs together: Sir Barnet Skettles taking care of Florence,and young Barnet following.

Young Barnet did not remain long in the background after they hadreached the drawing-room, for Dr Blimber had him out in no time,dancing with Florence. He did not appear to Paul to be particularlyhappy, or particularly anything but sulky, or to care much what he wasabout; but as Paul heard Lady Skettles say to Mrs Blimber, while shebeat time with her fan, that her dear boy was evidently smitten todeath by that angel of a child, Miss Dombey, it would seem thatSkettles Junior was in a state of bliss, without showing it.

Little Paul thought it a singular coincidence that nobody hadoccupied his place among the pillows; and that when he came into theroom again, they should all make way for him to go back to it,remembering it was his. Nobody stood before him either, when theyobserved that he liked to see Florence dancing, but they left thespace in front quite clear, so that he might follow her with his eyes.They were so kind, too, even the strangers, of whom there were soon agreat many, that they came and spoke to him every now and then, andasked him how he was, and if his head ached, and whether he was tired.He was very much obliged to them for all their kindness and attention,and reclining propped up in his corner, with Mrs Blimber and LadySkettles on the same sofa, and Florence coming and sitting by his sideas soon as every dance was ended, he looked on very happily indeed.

Florence would have sat by him all night, and would not have dancedat all of her own accord, but Paul made her, by telling her how muchit pleased him. And he told her the truth, too; for his small heartswelled, and his face glowed, when he saw how much they all admiredher, and how she was the beautiful little rosebud of the room.

From his nest among the pillows, Paul could see and hear almosteverything that passed as if the whole were being done for hisamusement. Among other little incidents that he observed, he observedMr Baps the dancing-master get into conversation with Sir BarnetSkettles, and very soon ask him, as he had asked Mr Toots, what youwere to do with your raw materials, when they came into your ports inreturn for your drain of gold - which was such a mystery to Paul thathe was quite desirous to know what ought to be done with them. SirBarnet Skettles had much to say upon the question, and said it; but itdid not appear to solve the question, for Mr Baps retorted, Yes, butsupposing Russia stepped in with her tallows; which struck Sir Barnetalmost dumb, for he could only shake his head after that, and say, Whythen you must fall back upon your cottons, he supposed.

Sir Barnet Skettles looked after Mr Baps when he went to cheer upMrs Baps (who, being quite deserted, was pretending to look over themusic-book of the gentleman who played the harp), as if he thought hima remarkable kind of man; and shortly afterwards he said so in thosewords to Doctor Blimber, and inquired if he might take the liberty ofasking who he was, and whether he had ever been in the Board of Trade.Doctor Blimber answered no, he believed not; and that in fact he was aProfessor of - '

'Figures of some sort, I would venture a bet,' said Sir BarnetSkettles.

'Why yes,' said Doctor Blimber, yes, but not of that sort. Mr Bapsis a very worthy sort of man, Sir Barnet, and - in fact he's ourProfessor of dancing.'

Paul was amazed to see that this piece of information quite alteredSir Barnet Skettles's opinion of Mr Baps, and that Sir Barnet flewinto a perfect rage, and glowered at Mr Baps over on the other side ofthe room. He even went so far as to D Mr Baps to Lady Skettles, intelling her what had happened, and to say that it was like his mostcon-sum-mate and con-foun-ded impudence.

There was another thing that Paul observed. Mr Feeder, afterimbibing several custard-cups of negus, began to enjoy himself. Thedancing in general was ceremonious, and the music rather solemn - alittle like church music in fact - but after the custard-cups, MrFeeder told Mr Toots that he was going to throw a little spirit intothe thing. After that, Mr Feeder not only began to dance as if hemeant dancing and nothing else, but secretly to stimulate the music toperform wild tunes. Further, he became particular in his attentions tothe ladies; and dancing with Miss Blimber, whispered to her -whispered to her! - though not so softly but that Paul heard him saythis remarkable poetry,

'Had I a heart for falsehood framed,

I ne'er could injure You!'This, Paul heard him repeat to four young ladies, in succession. Wellmight Mr Feeder say to Mr Toots, that he was afraid he should be theworse for it to-morrow!

Mrs Blimber was a little alarmed by this - comparatively speaking -profligate behaviour; and especially by the alteration in thecharacter of the music, which, beginning to comprehend low melodiesthat were popular in the streets, might not unnaturally be supposed togive offence to Lady Skettles. But Lady Skettles was so very kind asto beg Mrs Blimber not to mention it; and to receive her explanationthat Mr Feeder's spirits sometimes betrayed him into excesses on theseoccasions, with the greatest courtesy and politeness; observing, thathe seemed a very nice sort of person for his situation, and that sheparticularly liked the unassuming style of his hair - which (asalready hinted) was about a quarter of an inch long.

Once, when there was a pause in the dancing, Lady Skettles toldPaul that he seemed very fond of music. Paul replied, that he was; andif she was too, she ought to hear his sister, Florence, sing. LadySkettles presently discovered that she was dying with anxiety to havethat gratification; and though Florence was at first very muchfrightened at being asked to sing before so many people, and beggedearnestly to be excused, yet, on Paul calling her to him, and saying,'Do, Floy! Please! For me, my dear!' she went straight to the piano,and began. When they all drew a little away, that Paul might see her;and when he saw her sitting there all alone, so young, and good, andbeautiful, and kind to him; and heard her thrilling voice, so naturaland sweet, and such a golden link between him and all his life's loveand happiness, rising out of the silence; he turned his face away, andhid his tears. Not, as he told them when they spoke to him, not thatthe music was too plaintive or too sorrowful, but it was so dear tohim.

They all loved Florence. How could they help it! Paul had knownbeforehand that they must and would; and sitting in his cushionedcorner, with calmly folded hands; and one leg loosely doubled underhim, few would have thought what triumph and delight expanded hischildish bosom while he watched her, or what a sweet tranquillity hefelt. Lavish encomiums on 'Dombey's sister' reached his ears from allthe boys: admiration of the self-possessed and modest little beautywas on every lip: reports of her intelligence and accomplishmentsfloated past him, constantly; and, as if borne in upon the air of thesummer night, there was a half intelligible sentiment diffused around,referring to Florence and himself, and breathing sympathy for both,that soothed and touched him.

He did not know why. For all that the child observed, and felt, andthought, that night - the present and the absent; what was then andwhat had been - were blended like the colours in the rainbow, or inthe plumage of rich birds when the sun is shining on them, or in thesoftening sky when the same sun is setting. The many things he had hadto think of lately, passed before him in the music; not as claiminghis attention over again, or as likely evermore to occupy it, but aspeacefully disposed of and gone. A solitary window, gazed throughyears ago, looked out upon an ocean, miles and miles away; upon itswaters, fancies, busy with him only yesterday, were hushed and lulledto rest like broken waves. The same mysterious murmur he had wonderedat, when lying on his couch upon the beach, he thought he still heardsounding through his sister's song, and through the hum of voices, andthe tread of feet, and having some part in the faces flitting by, andeven in the heavy gentleness of Mr Toots, who frequently came up toshake him by the hand. Through the universal kindness he still thoughthe heard it, speaking to him; and even his old-fashioned reputationseemed to be allied to it, he knew not how. Thus little Paul satmusing, listening, looking on, and dreaming; and was very happy.

Until the time arrived for taking leave: and then, indeed, therewas a sensation in the party. Sir Barnet Skettles brought up SkettlesJunior to shake hands with him, and asked him if he would remember totell his good Papa, with his best compliments, that he, Sir BarnetSkettles, had said he hoped the two young gentlemen would becomeintimately acquainted. Lady Skettles kissed him, and patted his hairupon his brow, and held him in her arms; and even Mrs Baps - poor MrsBaps! Paul was glad of that - came over from beside the music-book ofthe gentleman who played the harp, and took leave of him quite asheartily as anybody in the room.

'Good-bye, Doctor Blimber,' said Paul, stretching out his hand.

'Good-bye, my little friend,' returned the Doctor.

'I'm very much obliged to you, Sir,' said Paul, looking innocentlyup into his awful face. 'Ask them to take care of Diogenes, if youplease.'

Diogenes was the dog: who had never in his life received a friendinto his confidence, before Paul. The Doctor promised that everyattention should he paid to Diogenes in Paul's absence, and Paulhaving again thanked him, and shaken hands with him, bade adieu to MrsBlimber and Cornelia with such heartfelt earnestness that Mrs Blimberforgot from that moment to mention Cicero to Lady Skettles, though shehad fully intended it all the evening. Cornelia, taking both Paul'shands in hers, said,'Dombey, Dombey, you have always been my favouritepupil. God bless you!' And it showed, Paul thought, how easily onemight do injustice to a person; for Miss Blimber meant it - though shewas a Forcer - and felt it.

A boy then went round among the young gentlemen, of 'Dombey'sgoing!' 'Little Dombey's going!' and there was a general move afterPaul and Florence down the staircase and into the hall, in which thewhole Blimber family were included. Such a circumstance, Mr Feedersaid aloud, as had never happened in the case of any former younggentleman within his experience; but it would be difficult to say ifthis were sober fact or custard-cups. The servants, with the butler attheir head, had all an interest in seeing Little Dombey go; and eventhe weak-eyed young man, taking out his books and trunks to the coachthat was to carry him and Florence to Mrs Pipchin's for the night,melted visibly.